Finding My Way Back Home to You
by Peyt4Luke4eva
Summary: AU LP O/S. Set after 6x13. It all starts as the perfect ending to their fairy tale. Its the beginning of their happily ever after as they prepare to start their own family. He would never have imagined the tragic event that threatens to tear them apart.


Author's Note – So this one shot is kind of based on a tender subject for me. And it also is written in a style and structure that aren't my usual so I've been a little nervous in posting it.

I would like to thank both Mel and Sarah for all their help and support. And also a big thank you to Alex (Lexie-Rae) for her work proofing this and giving me the final boost of courage to post it.

It's set around 6x13 and then moves beyond. It is semi AU.

* * *

**Finding My Way Back Home to You**

_Queen of Hearts_

It all starts out as a perfect fairytale ending. Or, as he likes to think if it, the beginning of their very own happily ever after. Him and his Peyton; the girl who his heart has always belonged to. Even back in those years before she knew he even existed or during the times when he tried to deny it, it had always been there. Waiting for them to come together and now they had.

These past months seem almost like a whirlwind romance to him as they begin to live in sin together. They've played such a meaningful and pivotal part in each other's lives for years. But now as they find their way back to one another everything seems more than just perfect and true. It seems predetermined and destined.

He's returning home with the knowledge that he is going to be a father. It's been mere hours since she called him in L.A and she tearfully delivered the news that they are bringing a life into the world together. He jumped on the first plane out; no longer caring about securing movie deals and finding the right director. He just needs to be with his pregnant fiancée.

Lucas slams the cab door shut behind him and hurries up to the house. He lets himself in quietly as it's late. She's left the light on in the hallway and he smiles. She'd always done exactly the same for her father when he was away at sea.

He drops down his bag and his keys, and pads quietly down the hall and into their room. He finds her sleeping soundly, there's a glowing smile traced across her face even in her secret dream world.

Slowly he moves over to her peaceful form. He smooths her unruly curls back from her face with his hand and he smiles. He allows himself to imagine, that someday very soon, he might have his very own little girl with messy hair. Just like he remembers from when he saw Peyton for very first time.

He kisses her softly and it's enough to stir her awake. She smiles into their shared, languid kiss before they break apart and her eyes fall to the single red rose he holds in between his fingers. She takes it from him and inhales its sweet smell, she knows she couldn't be happier.

Lucas is glad he has something to give her, even if it's a small gesture, and there's so much they haven't done yet. There's so much to plan for and take care of. He hasn't even given her a ring. He wishes he could give her more, as she's the girl carrying their tiny unborn child in her tummy. She's going to give him a little son or a daughter.

But the look in Peyton's eyes tell him that for right now she does not care about anything other than the little family their love has created. She just needs him, and only him. That's all she's wanted since she learnt they were going to be parents.

He greets their baby with a soft, sweet kiss to her stomach and she runs her fingers through his hair. Peyton calls him _daddy_ for the second time that day and his heart swells with pride. She kisses him gently and deeply, her own personal way of celebrating with the man she loves. The man who will to love and cherish their child now and forever.

They lay together, overjoyed and maybe slightly overwhelmed. It's only when he's holding his fiancée closely in his arms that the crazy, unexpectedness of that day becomes clear and sinks into his mind. He's going to be a father and his girl will be giving life to the one who will complete their new family. It's perfect, he realises as she talks and begins to make excited plans.

-x-

They marry just a few short weeks later. Lucas stands with his brother and best friend at his side and breathes in the scent of early spring and freshly cut grass. The young leaves on the trees and the beginning of wild flowers stir so many thoughts and feelings within him.

They have a small, intimate ceremony by the river, close to the sacred spot where they'd first spoken. They invite their closest friends and family to share in their unity.

Peyton dresses in a beautiful white gown with a jewelled bodice and she wears white flowers in her hair. Brooke came through for her once again, making the dress on short notice and adjusting it several times to allow for the bride's growing tummy.

She walks down the aisle, holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand and her father's arm in to the other. Her groom gives her a beaming grin and he interlinks their fingers as they stand in front of their guests. Her hand rests neatly over the tiny bump that is just starting to show, and she vows her life to him. Now and forever. She's never been more certain of a promise she's made before.

Her eyes sparkle with tears as he slides Keith's ring onto her finger along with the wedding band. From under the canopy of trees the diamond glitters in its platinum setting, delicate and perfect. She's reminded of how precious and pure love is, and of how lucky they are to have found their way to one another.

Lucas speaks his carefully prepared words to the woman he's loved for as long as he can remember. The minister announces them as man and wife, and Peyton Sawyer finally becomes Peyton Scott like both have wished for, for so long.

They lie together, still kissing but spent, on their wedding night. In the bed he's covered in crimson silk, and pink and red rose petals. Their room bathed in the glow of golden candlelight. He's made their evening perfect, and she brushes her lips against his, whilst savouring their moments of quiet contentment.

She looks like an angel as she rests in his arms with white and pink petals still caught up in her curls. He grins at her, feeling more at peace than he ever thought possible, and she interlinks their left hands bringing them to rest upon her pregnant belly.

When she murmurs if he thinks she'll be a good mother, he just smiles and kisses her doubts away. He's seen her with Jamie and Andre; he's heard his new wife speak in whispers to their baby at night when she thinks he's not listening. There's not a shadow of a doubt in his mind on how to answer. Peyton Sawyer-Scott will be a great mother; he knows his girl will love and protect their child above everything else.

-x-

After their honeymoon they decide to start on the nursery. Lucas surprises a still sleepy Peyton, as he guides her down the hall, his hand over her eyes. She giggles infectiously and she teases him, as he pushes open the door and leads her inside.

She is greeted with an empty room, bathed only in the early day's twinkling light. The light morning breeze tickles at her nose and she inhales the smell of fresh wood and polish. Her bare feet connect with brand new pine boards; he's already taken care of the flooring. She kisses him after he explains he wants them to build the nursery up together. Their own family project, as they wait to welcome their little boy or girl.

She sees all the supplies ready in the corner, he's been planning all of this in secret. For some time she thinks. He has bags of toys, baby clothes and stuffed animals. She immediately recognises the purple monkey that Brooke has donated to her best friends' new baby.

She reaches up to kiss her husband's stubbly cheek, all the discomfort of morning sickness and a swollen tummy forgotten, as she feels giddy with excitement and adoration.

Lucas works on the crib and the shelves, whilst he won't let Peyton lift a finger to help in the furniture's construction. She complains that she is not made of glass, but she secretly loves that he's being so protective. He's just looking out for her and the precious little life growing inside her belly.

She soon gives in and compromises by starting on a mural for the walls. She doesn't want to know if the baby's a boy or a girl until after the birth, so she settles for a light shade of yellow as the base colour.

She paints the entire expanse of the room before she settles into one corner and begins to work on the fine details of zoo animals. She's chosen the theme to go along with the stuffed bears and other creatures he and Brooke found, as her best friend went on her first shopping spree for the pending arrival of the latest Scott.

The stereo thrums in the background as they both work on their tasks and they occasionally exchange glances as she sings the Cure songs off key. She only does it as the Cure means kisses from her new husband, and if he doesn't indulge her straight away from the opening bars, then she makes sure to prompt them from him.

_Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick, the one that makes me scream._

He's never been a fan of her beloved band. But as she chimes the lyrics and arches her brow at the provocative words, he can only grin devilishly. He moves over to his gorgeous, pregnant wife. If anything she's more beautiful and desirable whilst she's carrying his child. She's happy and glowing, her hair is thicker and her fuller figure makes him feel things he thinks he probably shouldn't.

He plucks the paintbrush from her hand, causing her to giggle as he tosses it aside. He takes her in his arms like he did when they were teenagers. Back when they were fearless, driven by hormones and living an idyllic dream. But right now it feels like they are living those precious years all over again.

_The Whispers of Fear_

Lucas comes along to every one of her doctor's appointments, as he's sworn he will be by her side every step of the way. She sees tears in his eyes as they have the first ultrasound.

She's rarely seen him cry, she can probably count the number of times her husband has allowed himself to weep in front of her. And in those few times he has wept over tragedy, he's never cried tears of joy. He sheds tears of adoration that she knows they are both feeling. And right now, as they see their baby for the first time, she feels every ounce of emotion that he is. And she can't help but grin brightly and give in to the sense of awe at the life that awaits them.

He's completely overwhelmed and proud as he sees the grainy image of their tiny child. He hears the sweet, rhythmic beat of the baby's heart. It's the best sound in the world. It's strong and wonderful.

He watches as his young wife reaches out to touch the screen. Her fingertips brush along the outline of the child's head and she tries not to cry. She whispers hushed words of greeting to the life she hasn't even met yet, and Lucas knows this baby and his Peyton are the two people he'll adore for the rest of life.

Seeing this perfectly fragile image would terrify her if it were not for the man who's standing by her side. The man who presses his kisses to her forehead and tells her he loves her.

-x-

Just days afterwards, when Lucas returns home after a day's worth of coaching the Tree Hill Ravens, their entire world begins to shatter.

He pushes through their bedroom door, only to find the room empty. But the bed's unmade. Peyton has taken to napping during the day sometimes as the morning sickness continues to keep her awake at night.

He frowns, this is nothing unusual but he feels the sense of alarm stirring within the pit of his stomach. The air inside their home seems heavy and cold, despite the late spring day shining brightly outside.

There's something in the thick atmosphere that tells him something isn't right.

He calls out her name as he moves swiftly from one room to other. He hears the weak sobs penetrating through the door to the kitchen. His blood runs cold before he's even seen her. Something is very wrong. He lets a shudder of a gasp pass between his lips as he enters.

She's lying on the floor; a vase of red roses lies smashed and shattered across the white tiles. Her body is bent and curled rigidly. Her hands cradle at her stomach, and she tries to control the painful and desperate screams emitting from her lips.

He rushes over to her as her frightened eyes take in his presence. She's shaking so hard as he lifts up from the cold tiled floor and away from the broken glass. He's almost too scared to move her at all. Her frame is hot to his touch, and her words are nonsensical between her tears and agonised breaths.

Lucas almost breaks, seeing her in so much pain is the one thing he can't handle.

Too many thoughts and fears spark through him as he calls an ambulance and gathers his girl so close to him. He knows she's trembling so hard because she loves this baby so much. But for a brief moment, the images of his own beautiful girl are the only thoughts dancing through his mind.

His dream, the one he had that stormy night now months ago, flashes into his memory. He'd lost his Peyton in a nightmare and had woken up in a cold sweat knowing that it was all only a dream. But also knowing he couldn't bear to live without her either.

-x-

The pain finally begins to subside for Peyton. She lies on the hospital's plastic bed while the doctor examines her and runs various tests. Her eyes scan the clinical room as she finally takes in where she is. The cold prenatal gel seems almost welcoming this time against the feverish skin of her rounded tummy.

She hears the baby's heart beating so sure and strong, and she wants to believe that everything is still all right. But the look on her gynaecologist's face, and the expression the nurse wears, unsettle and scare her. The friendly, bright smiles they usually wear are replaced by stony and unreadable expression.

They tell her nothing helpful as she pleads for answers. They don't even offer her false promises like she remembers when her mother passed away, and that really terrifies her. Her voice sounds shrill even in her ears. She watches them leave the room to collect their test results.

Lucas is by her side, holding her hand and assuring her that it will be okay, that the doctors know what they are doing. But she knows instinctively that something is very wrong. Her left hand never leaves her stomach as she tries to control her overwhelming maternal fears.

Peyton barely takes in what the doctor tells her once they are sitting in the office. The gynaecologist finally relays what has been discovered and all the terrible implications it creates.

_Placenta Previa. _

Lucas hears what might happen to his wife and his baby, and he feels his world spiralling. He could lose them both, she could hemorrhage and the baby could be born prematurely or suffer respiratory distress. They could both die and that frightening possibility hits him hard and heavy.

He does all the talking for both of them, he asks all the questions as he tries to focus his head on trying to help them out of this. He doesn't know what else to do as Peyton remains silent and terrified.

Her entire body feels numb as the doctor suggests, and recommends, their next course of action.

An abortion.

That cold, cruel word sends the sensation of icicles down her back.

Her fingers touch at her lips in an unconscious gesture. Shock and horror swell up bitterly in the back of her throat. She can't breath and she can't speak.

What they are asking of her is so surreal. She can barely believe what still seems to be ringing in her ears. Her hands move to form a barrier at her tummy, to protect the precious, innocent life inside of her. She feels Lucas's touch as he tries to calm her but all she feels is confusion and anger.

She can't.

She won't.

There has to be another way.

-x-

By the time they finally reach home late that evening she can't believe he can even be considering it. She can't believe the words coming from her own husband's mouth.

He seems so calm, believing that they should take some time to think it all over. As though there could ever be any other option for her, other than to keep their baby.

She remains in the kitchen, trying to clean up the mess the broken vase left on their shiny counter tops. He's cleared away all the splinters of the glass, but the roses still lie wilting against the white, sparkling surface. She stares down sadly at the curling and blackening petals. Her fingertips brush against the dried and withering flowers and she stops abruptly in her task.

She hears his footsteps echo behind her and she gathers up the broken stems. He's been buying them for her each month as an in keeping gesture to mark off each and every month of her pregnancy.

She can't help but feel hurt and resentful at him right now and she throws the flowers into the trashcan. He suggests that she lie down, that she should really be resting, but she won't.

She shakes her head by way of answering him before she turns back to the kitchen sink. Her hands move idly to the dishes on the draining board. She needs to keep busy otherwise the fear and the anger she's feeling right now will eat away at her.

Lucas moves cautiously over to where she's standing. He takes her gently by the shoulders and turns her to face him.

They need to talk about this.

She's wearing a look of determination over her delicate features. He knows she'll fight him every step of the way, no matter how hard he tries to convince her that maybe taking the doctor's advice might be for the best.

She might look venomous as he tries to reason with her, and she might be trying to sound so sure and certain, but he can see the shadows of fear illuminating in her big green eyes.

He wants her. He's scared for her. He's scared of losing her.

She's still so young, they both are. They have an entire and happy future stretched out before them and he can't fathom that it could be shattered and snatched away from him before his very eyes.

He wants to give this girl everything she wants in this world. She wants the baby and he loves her for that. She's already so ferociously protective over their child. She's already acting and sounding like the wonderful mother she wants to become. The mother he wants her to become.

But he does not want her to become but a memory in their child's life. He doesn't want their baby to grow up without a mother; he knows how hard it has been for Peyton herself.

He takes the towel from between her hands, urging that they sit down and discuss their options rationally. He tries tentatively to make her see sense, but she won't even begin to consider _an abortion_, as she hatefully refers to it.

She won't consider anything other than keeping her baby.

She quickly leaves the kitchen. She can't bear to listen to him as he tries to persuade her to do something so terrible. She can't imagine how abandoning their baby is such an easy and clear choice for him.

She knows somewhere in her heart that it isn't easy for him. She understands that's not what he is trying to do. He's being the caring and loving husband he's vows and promised to be. And he's as scared as she is.

However right now she needs someone to blame. She needs someone to be the bad guy. So she can try and make sense of this bizarre and terrifying day. She needs a villain so she can begin to process that their perfect world is now being torn apart.

She steps into the nursery; their little family project is almost done now. Lucas is half way through baby proofing the room. Her walls are bright and hopeful. Though as day gives way to night, she sees the shadows falling in through the windows. They seem to be growing with each passing second and a chill spreads up her spine.

She picks up the purple monkey, the one baby Angie used to love. She strokes along its plush arm as she remembers how hurt Brooke had been when Angie was taken away from her. Brooke had welcomed Angie into her home and into her heart unconditionally. She had loved that baby as her own, and had done everything to get her the operation and save Angie's young life. It didn't matter to Brooke that she couldn't keep Angie afterwards, that the little girl would never grow up to be her own. She had fallen for the baby anyway; she had fallen for her like any mother would. And she had acted selflessly to give Angie her life back.

It broke her best friend to do it, but Brooke did what she had to do regardless. And then she moved on because she didn't have any other choice.

Peyton, however, has a choice.

She won't make the choice that isn't the best for her baby.

She lets out a shaking breath; she turns to see the two little white shirts lying on top of their ever-growing piles of baby clothes. _I love my mummy_ and _I love my daddy_. Her finger traces over the innocent rainbow lettering and she feels the onset of hot tears. Her hand scoops up the garments and she crumbles.

She knows he's behind her as she sobs. She hears his voice, soft and unsure against the shell of her ears. She grasps the tiny custom made tee shirts in her shaking hands. She lets him gather her up closely against his chest. They both shed their tears and he holds her. She pleads with him to let her keep the baby. She can't have it any other way.

Lucas feels the little flutters of life beneath the taut skin of her tummy and he almost breaks. He loves this baby. He loves his wife. It seems beyond cruel that he may only ever be able to pick one.

_The Dream I Cannot Touch_

In the coming weeks Lucas tries to be positive and okay with their choice. He does his best to not think about the fearful possibility of a future without his Peyton. He tries to forget that the baby they both love so much might take her away from him.

They don't tell any of their friends. They decide it's for the best. She wants to be the happy and excited pregnant woman just like before. She wants to be the proud mother to be. He grants her wish, trying not to admit that he hopes this is not the closest thing she'll ever have to being a mom.

But sometimes as he lies awake at night he wishes he had someone to confide in. He doesn't want to talk to her about their possible bleak future because he knows it scares her almost as much as it scares him. But sometimes carrying around their secret, this swelling burden, seems too much to bear.

Peyton lies in bed every night, reading through the pregnancy book Haley donated to her. Or she reads through the baby name books Brooke bought for her. She'll read to him, or suggest names for the baby, and sometimes he wishes she would stop.

He doesn't want to hear that their little baby is growing miniature lashes and fingernails. He wants to be happy but he sees fear in his wife's green eyes, he hears the hope and excitement in her voice, but he also hears the regret that she might not even be there to see these tiny details for herself. And he wants them to be fortunate enough to pick a name together when she holds her newborn baby in her arms for the very first time.

He wants all these small, sweet things and he knows she wants them to.

He watches as her face clouds instantly and he wishes he hadn't spoken those words aloud. He sees how she folds into herself, her eyes cast downwards and she hides her tears of uncertainty beneath her tousled hair. He sinks down on to the mattress beside her, feeling horrible, feeling like the bad guy once again because he can't be okay with the fact he might lose her.

They are both silent in the dimly lit from, she stares at the print of her well thumbed book and doesn't take in another word of it.

He shifts towards her body in the darkness later that night, as they both lie wide-awake. The silence between them is unnerving and he doesn't want it to be there at all. He reaches out and pulls her to him and she doesn't protest. He's sorry and he's scared.

She promises him, with as much conviction and certainty as she can, that she will be okay. That they will get past this. That this is not the end of their story. And he wants to believe it. He doesn't want to feel the fear nagging away at him in the back of his mind and in the depths of his heart. But he can't help it.

The doctors' appointments become more and more regular as the pregnancy progresses. He is told that she is doing well and so is the baby. That offers them both some comfort. It gives them a sense of clarity that all this painful fretting is going to be worth it.

As she reaches her seventh month of pregnancy he catches her whispers of prayer in the nursery, and then three days later again at her mother's grave. He hears finally, from her own admissions, how scared she truly is. She tells her mother that she needs to know that Lucas will be okay without her if something terrible happens. If this world takes her away from him and their child then she wants Anna Sawyer to watch over him.

He stares helplessly as she crouches on her knees amongst the damp grass and prays for her mother's wisdom and strength.

Later when she returns home, he doesn't tell her that he was there. But that night he lies with his hand on her stomach. He strokes his fingers against the tight, warm skin of her mid section and he feels the kicks of his own child. She smiles as he shares the feeling of life beneath flesh. She nuzzles in closely to his body, giving into a peaceful sleep. It isn't lost on him that it's the first quiet and uninterrupted rest she's had in weeks.

Just six weeks before her due date, all his worst nightmares come true. He is cleaning up after a dinner party with Nathan and Haley, and he hears her piercing cry penetrating their otherwise quiet and peaceful home.

He knows instinctively that it's already happening, that he can't do anything to stop it.

He darts towards their bedroom. She's standing, bracing herself against the door frame with teardrops of redness glistening on the floor beneath her feet. Her other hand is draped across her stomach.

His heart stops as she cries out his name in a small and desperate voice. He sees the dark streams of blood now trailing down her legs. The blood's flowing fast and readily and he's never felt so helpless.

As he reaches her, she pries herself from the wall and takes one unsteady step towards him. She falls into his arms as the world goes black.

_Shattered Dreams and Broken Promises_

Lucas paces the shiny, tiled floors of the hospital as he waits for what seems like forever. He looks to the clock. It's been little over an hour since Peyton was pulled from his arms and wheeled away on a hospital gurney, with a team of doctors and nurses clustered with urgency around her.

His eyes look up to see a frantic looking Brooke as she arrives from the elevator and pulls him into a tight hold. They both have dreaded this from ever coming to pass. The vulnerability and fear shining in Brooke's chestnut eyes mirrors his own.

Both don't know what they'll do without their number one girl.

He sees Nathan and Haley, and his little nephew Jamie then and his heart just stings with all that he could lose.

Haley gently urges him to go and clean up. It's only then that Lucas looks down at his shirt, still streaked with her blood. He bites back the tears as Nathan finally escorts him to the men's bathroom.

Lucas stares blankly at his reflection as his brother guides his hands towards the sink. He stares down as Nathan works the gold wedding band from his finger and washes the blood from his fingers. He gives Lucas his own over shirt to change into then.

His little brother's eyes grow wide upon hearing the secret that he and his wife have kept from them all. Lucas sobs as Nathan holds, and tries to reassure him.

They step outside to see Peyton's doctor standing with Brooke, Haley and a concerned looking Jamie. Lucas remembers how excited Jamie's always been to have a little baby cousin to look after and protect.

The brothers move slowly towards the rest of their group. The doctor turns to him and Lucas's blood runs cold.

They couldn't save his daughter, the surgeon explains. They performed a C-section to try and save both of Lucas's girls. His daughter suffered respiratory distress. She was too weak.

He presses his eyes shut as he realises he's lost his child. He holds his head in his hands; he feels Haley's featherlike touch at his shoulder.

He's almost too scared to ask about his wife's condition but he hears Brooke's rasping voice from beside him.

The tears choke up painfully in his throat as he learns that she is in recovery. There were complications in the surgery, and she lost a lot of blood, but his wife pulled through.

He finally sinks to sit down on the waiting room's couch as the doctor's footsteps echo away along the corridor. He doesn't know how he's going to tell her.

-x-

Peyton stirs slowly awake as she picks out his voice from her feverish unconsciousness and the din of machines and doctors. Her heavy eyelids open against the bright, fluorescent lights and she stares about the white room.

She sees the relief in his eyes when he sees that she's really alive and okay. He moves beside her, taking her hand into his and he kisses her bed of tousled curls.

He tells her that the baby didn't make it. He tells her with tears in his eyes that it was a little baby girl. He knows now that he would have had that little girl he'd always imagined; with her messy ringlets, button nose and independent flare. His heart aches for what they've lost but he still has his Peyton. He knows that's the only thing keeping him from falling apart. Because he knows he has to be strong,

Her hands travel down to her stomach almost as if she can't believe that it's true. There is still a little bulge beneath the white blanket and all of this doesn't seem possible. She can still see the little reminder of the life she's been carrying inside her for the last seven months.

She knows it's true, despite what her eyes might be holding on to; her mind and her body know _she's_ gone. Her baby is gone. She feels empty and hollow inside.

He whispers her name as he sees the tears glittering in her emerald orbs. He reaches for her, folding her up into his arms and holding her so tightly. He reaches out for her wanting to secure in his own mind that he hasn't lost both of the two most precious girls in his life. One is bad enough, he feels selfish for thinking it. But he couldn't have lost her.

She lets him hold onto her. She lets him tell her and promise her that they'll be all right. That they will get through this.

She hears his words and she just wants to shatter into a million tiny pieces. She wants to shout up to whomever or whatever governs her life and her fate; to whoever is up in the skies looking down upon her that might be responsible for taking her unborn child away from her.

And she wants to not feel that aching resentment in her soul, against her Lucas. He's hurting too, he loves her and she knows that he loved their baby girl.

But she can feel that thankfulness in every breath he takes, in every word he speaks. He was so afraid of losing her and he's so grateful that he didn't. But she knows in her heart how willingly she would have given her life for the life she'd nurtured inside her stomach.

She doesn't want this to tear them apart but she feels as though it's already beginning to.

_Fall of Grace_

Just five days later, they return home. Lucas guides her carefully from the car and into the house. It's quiet and it's clean. Too clean, like he's tried to hard and has done everything to make her return home as easy and as simple as possible. But it isn't and Peyton doesn't believe she's going to feel normal any time soon.

His hand is still at the small of her back with the other guiding her. He's treating her like she's made of glass and she doesn't want that. She's doesn't want to feel anymore fractured and fragile than she already does.

Lucas helps her into bed; the doctors have said she needs to rest. He strokes her hair back before pulling the comforter up and over the lower half of her body. His eyes drop to the white gauze protecting the surgical wound across her midsection. She wants to cry as they are both reminded of all they have lost.

The air between them seems cold as both sets of eyes linger on her tender skin. He realises how much he wanted and silently hoped for a little girl, from the moment he'd had that phone call in L.A all he'd thought about was golden ringlets and a fiery but sweet nature. He'd wanted the tiny baby daughter they have just lost.

He watches as she leans back against the soft bed but she winces as the same. She blinks back the tears from her stinging, tired eyes. She's always known what he's thinking, and the way he's looking longingly at her stomach makes her feel all that she has just lost.

Before he can speak a word of reassurance, before he can promise it's going to be okay, she pulls the satin covers over the diminishing bump. She turns from him, her face finding its way to the pillow.

She knows he's by her side for a long while as he tries to talk to her. His hand strokes up and down her arm to soothe her, and he attempts to reach her through her walls of defence. But she just can't. Not yet. It hurts too much to even try to move past this.

-x-

The days and weeks that follow are endless. Peyton can barely bring herself to get up out of her bed. She won't eat. She just sleeps or she lies there staring at the bare walls. When her friends come to visit and check on her, she finds she can't bring herself to face them. All the words in her throat dry up and feel as though they are choking her.

She just lies there, just listening to the singing morning birds, the rustle of traffic or the dripping of the bathroom tap. It's about as much as she can handle.

She knows he looks in on her every couple of hours. He sits with her; sometimes he'll try and encourage her to eat. Sometimes he talks to her and other times he just strokes his callous hand up and down her arm.

Lucas doesn't know what is best for her. Both Haley and Brooke suggest getting Peyton some counselling. They know Peyton is falling into depression, as she grieves for her child.

He wants to brush their remarks and suggestions away. He wants to be able to say that he and Peyton can handle it, that they can find a way back from this but he doesn't think they can.

He knows what's happening to her is serious. She's left the house only twice since she was released from the hospital. Once, for their baby's burial, where she hid behind dark glasses and clung weakly onto his arm. The other time was to have her stitches out.

He knows she's breaking down. He knows he has to do something more to help her.

He finally suggests to his wife that maybe they should go see someone, but she just shrugs it off. She turns her back to him and pulls the comforter up over her head, to hide her face and bury her sobs.

She doesn't even seem to want to try and get well. She seems to just want to lie amongst the bed covers and forget the world. She seems so completely unreachable to him and that really terrifies him.

Each and every night he stares up at the dark ceilings, trying to think of some way of breaking through her walls. Most of the time as she shifts beneath the covers or lets out her little murmurs he knows she isn't asleep.

He wants to reach for her and hold her. He wants to comfort her, but he doesn't think that's even what she wants now. As the nights wear on, the space between them seems to grow. She curls her small frame away from him and she lies tightly on her side of the bed.

He's never wanted this to be their life. Just months ago, as he'd imagined a lifetime filled with laughter and cherished family memories; he would have never envisioned this as their future.

-x-

When Peyton does move from their room, she wonders around the empty house aimlessly. Lucas returned to work a couple of months ago now, she remembers. She doesn't have much concept of time, her hours seem endless and marked only by the blending of sun rise and sun set.

The world seems to be racing on without her.

She moves from room to room, staring at each and every one of the familiar pieces of furniture. Her fingers brush against CD covers and books and she just feels nothing.

She finds herself shuffling through into the baby's nursery late one night when Lucas still hasn't come home yet. She's noticed how he comes back later and later. She's noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath sometimes too. He explains sometimes that he's been out for drinks with Skills but lately he doesn't excuse his lateness and she doesn't complain about it either.

She would have never pictured them ending up this way. She never thought that she'd be the wife whose husband would rather not come home to her. They were so in love, she's still in love with him. But her pain seems to consume her every moment.

She knows they barely talk anymore. She can barely look at him and she's not even sure why. She's noticed he doesn't really look at her either.

Her stomach still pinches slightly as she lowers herself down onto the armchair besides the crib. It's been a long while since she's had the stitches removed so she guesses the tenderness is due to the fact she hasn't been able to face doing anything.

She lets out a sigh as she just sits in the room. Her hand reaches for the tiny white onesie that Haley had surprised her with. The tip of her index finger brushes against the black lettering that reads, "Team Peyton."

Her tears fall finally. Harsh and cold. Her body wracks with pent up guilt. She cries so hard that she doesn't think she'll be able to stop.

She curls herself into the chair once all the tears have dried up. She sits in the cool room and ignores her shivering skin. She realises for the first time that she doesn't blame Lucas, because he wanted to protect her from all of this. She blames herself.

She waits up for him. She stares about at the shadows of the nursery, and watches as each and every one of their neighbour's car headlights illuminates the sparse, quiet room for a few intermittent seconds.

She knows it late as her eyelids grow heavy, the traffic fades out and eventually everyone's house lights turn off for the night.

He finally opens their front door and she starts awake, lifting her weary head from the plush arm of the seat.

It doesn't take him long to find his way into the nursery too. He swallows hard as he steps inside, he hasn't ventured into the baby's room since they lost _her_. His footsteps echo against the flooring and his heart seems to be thudding in his ears.

He doesn't like that Peyton is wringing her hands together, or that her eyes are focused and nervous as she watches him move closer to her. She normally barely acknowledges him and now as she stares at him he's scared at what she might say.

He tries to get her to go back to their room. His hands curl at her arm as he tries to help her up from the chair. Her frame is thinner than even he's realised. He knows she's barely been eating and that she's been breaking down from the inside out. But seeing and feeling how frail she is really scares him.

Her voice rings out weak and raspy from her own never-ending exhaustion and its lack of use. She tells him that they need to talk, he falters and he lets go of her hand. He's not ready for what is going to spill from her mouth and into the blackness between them.

She wants to go to L.A.

She wants to go on tour with Mia Catalano.

And she wants to go alone.

Lucas stands stuck in one place. His legs feel heavy under the weight of her decision. He doesn't know whether to be upset, whether he should be mad at her or whether he should just be stunned that she's given this so much thought.

He wants to be mad. They are supposed to be getting over this together. But looking at how frail she is, and how broken and tired she seems, he can't be mad at her. He loves her too much to be truly angry with her.

Tears blind her vision as she sees his hurt. She tells him that she just needs some time to be away from Tree Hill. That she needs time to be by herself and to heal.

He doesn't fight her. He's too shocked by what has filtered into the void between them.

He reaches for her arm again and guides her back to the armchair. He sits in the chair and she perches on the arm.

Lucas lets her talk; he lets her get some of this out into the open. She cries harder and what she wants is hard to hear. But he thinks this is what they need.

It's the first real conversation they've had in months and he's grateful to finally hear some of what's been going on inside her mind. What she's saying doesn't entirely make sense to him but he's only wanted to know what she's been thinking and feeling.

It hasn't been easy. She needs him to know that. She sobs as she tries to make him understand that it's killing her inside to make this decision, and to go down this path.

She speaks her words as rationally as possible. She hopes that she doesn't want this to be their end. But she knows that for right now this may be the best thing for her, and her husband too though he would probably deny it.

She feels frozen inside. She wants to break through from the darkness she feels in her heart and in her soul. She wants to be normal again. Happy again.

She isn't the girl he fell in love with. She isn't the girl who promised him forever. She's lost. She doesn't want to be this version of herself.

She doesn't want to leave him. But she knows that in order to get better, to over come this, she needs to get away. At least for a little while she needs change. Being around everything that serves as a reminder to her of the life she's lost just makes the pain that much harder to bear.

The next morning, after they've talked and she hasn't slept, she packs her clothes for the next few months, or for however long it takes for her to feel normal again. She sighs heavily as she loops her newly washed curls behind her ears and stares around their room one last time.

She feels like a failure as she zips up her bags and he carries them to the door. Even when she feels like she's abandoning him and their marriage, he's still trying to be good to her. He's still being the dutiful and loving man to her and she feels her own shame brimming within her.

She's his wife but she feels unworthy of that title in so many ways. She promised forever and at the very first hurdle she falls apart.

He watches as she hesitates in the hallway. She turns to him and hugs her arms around herself. He wants to say or do something to stop her. They're both hurting, they have been for months now, but some of that is out in the open now. Them being apart isn't what he wants. All he wants is to take her in his arms and cry with her. To have her cry out all the hurt onto his shoulders and let him fix her.

But that's not what she needs right now. And as hard as it is for him to imagine, maybe she needs to get over this somewhere other than with him.

She turns to give him one final look. Her sad eyes offer him the wordless promise that she wants to come back, that she has to do this but it's hard.

He just stands on the front porch, he watches as she leaves his life and he hopes it isn't forever.

_Finding the Way Back_

The first days without his wife are the hardest. The house seems so empty without her. Even when she was just curled up amongst the bed covers or sitting in the corner of the nursery at least he felt some comfort in knowing she was there and that she was okay. Now however the house is void of her presence and it saddens him greatly.

He knows that she has to do this; she needs her space to heal. He just hopes and prays that once she's done grieving and healing she'll find her way back to him. Because he's in pain too and he needs her with him.

Sometimes he wishes he'd told her how much he missed their child and how much it hurt him to lose their daughter. Sometimes he wishes he'd been more honest about how crushed he's become and not tried to go on with the illusion of trying to be the strong one.

It wasn't supposed to be this way, that's the only thought Lucas has running through his mind each and every day as he potters through the large, empty house.

He finds his way into the nursery and he stares at the almost finished mural. At the small wild cats she'd spent hours painting in with the smallest and most detailed of strokes. He smiles sadly at the memory of her paint-flecked nose and that he'd have to help her up from the hard wood floor as the pregnancy wore on.

He sinks down onto the cool flooring and stares at the last, blank and unfinished corner. The unfilled space is vivid and haunting, it bothers him. His fingers idly move to the discarded paintbrush and he thinks about filling it in but he can't do it the same justice. He drops the brush with a soft thump and his eyes stare back at the dull spot.

He's thought about repainting the room and giving away all the baby things but he knows she'd hate it. And he feels like he'd be giving up on their dream of a happy and complete family. And he can't bring himself to do that. Not now and not ever.

He still wants a family. A family with her.

Brooke, Haley and Nathan all support him as he tries to keep busy. They check in on him regularly, Haley cooks for him or invites him over for dinner with her family. Brooke keeps in regular contact with his wife, and she promises him that Peyton just needs time and that she will come back to them. Brooke believes it; she really believes that her best friends are meant to be. He wants to share in that uncompromising belief.

It helps him to be surrounded by his friends and family. He can switch off, at least for a little while. He focuses on basketball, on his writing and on the world around him. It's when he's at home, alone, and doing nothing that he allows himself to recall all that he has lost and all the dreams that slipped through his fingers.

At night he leaves the hallway light on for her, just in case she surprises him. He leaves the light on for her in the hopes that she'll come back.

He doesn't sleep well at night. He mind wanders into doubtful territories. He misses her and he questions whether he did enough when she was there. Whether he'd been enough for her. She'd been hurting ever since they lost their baby. Maybe even before that as she lived with the knowledge that she might not even live to be a mother.

He feels like he should have been there more, he wishes he had said and done more to help her.

Letting her go to L.A seems like an easy option on his part sometimes. He feels as though he's failing her. He feels like he should be with her, trying to help her through what they are both going through. She's ill and he should be with her and be the one taking care of her. But he feels like all he is doing right now is waiting, waiting for her to save herself. And he can barely stand feeling so helpless.

-x-

For Peyton being away from the man she loves is the hardest thing she's ever done. Making the choice she's made makes her want to curl up and cry if she thinks about it for too long. So she doesn't, she tries to focus on moving forward. But being away on tour with Mia slowly begins to help her.

Her days are now occupied with musicians and band managers. And her evenings consist of watching live music back stage. Being on the road all the time helps her from feeling like she's stuck and drowning in her own misery, because now she feels like she's almost rushing on to something else.

And the thrumming sounds filtering from the amps and the live singing cleanse her and comfort her in ways that they have always done.

The nights alone in the hotel rooms are hard for her. She still can't face socialising and partying, so she just lies in big empty beds without him. Even though in the recent months of their marriage they had barely spoken she still misses things like him breathing beside her.

And the feverish nightmares she's suffered ever since they lost their daughter only become worse when he's not there. He'd helped her feel secure by his mere presence even when she'd kept him at arms length. She misses the assurance of her husband terribly as she lies alone in the darkness.

She still wears her wedding band and engagement ring; she wears them on a chain around her neck because she doesn't feel worthy of calling herself his wife. But whenever she hears singers and musicians talk animatedly about their dreams, her fingertips trace against the platinum band and 'Keith's' ring. She catches herself doing it as Mia gives her a look.

She promised Lucas forever, she'd meant it with everything she had. She'd wanted to be with him as all his dreams came true because he was her dream. She knows as she hears these young people aspire to fame and to greatness that she's already found it. That she's already had it and she wants to feel it again.

She begins to see a therapist when the tour stops for a while; and she and Mia stay in L.A for publicity.

The therapy sessions start of so difficult for her. She doesn't really expect any different. In the first two hour-long sessions, she sits there and barely speaks unless prompted to. It's almost as though she's too scared to get to the root and the cause of all her pain and anger because she thinks it will destroy her.

On the third session however she tries to talk. She tries because, as Mia pointed out earlier that day, she wouldn't keep going to the sessions week after week, if she didn't believe that she could get better.

The therapist even probes as to why she comes back each time, the answer swells up in her throat, and all she can do is say because of Lucas. Her reply is so innate and so simple that it catches her off guard.

She's come to L.A and she's been coming to Dr Kennedy because of her husband. She's sunk so deep that she can barely see the light that once burned within her soul. But she knows now that she wants to find her way back to him. She wants the life they vowed to have together.

She sobs at her own admission and she curls back into the leather couch with her feet tucked beneath her. It seems so small to her at first, her blue-eyed boy and their love have governed her every moment since they were teenagers. But it gradually leads to Peyton opening up for the first time in months.

Her left hand clutches at the crumpled tissue and she really asks for help for the very first time.

It hurts, it's hard and she cries so many tears. By the time she leaves the confidential room her head is pounding and she walks along the beach. But her broken soul seems to truly have a purpose now and a reason to get well again. And that's more than she's had in months.

She walks barefoot along the golden sands; it's something she hasn't done for over a year. The cool, soft grounds sinking between her toes makes her feel so much better.

She thinks of what Dr Kennedy suggested, reaching out to her husband with a phone call or a letter. Something small and gradual but a positive step in the right direction nonetheless.

She goes straight back to the hotel room and she picks up the phone. Tears cloud her vision as she listens to the first two rings of the dial tone and she feels foolish as she hangs up the phone. She wouldn't know what to say to him.

She takes a deep breath as she tries to organise her thoughts.

He's the one person she's always been able to talk to, to confide in and have him love her in return for who she is.

But she still can't find the right words.

She sits on the balcony for a long time with the sea breeze ruffling through her tousled curls. She sips on a glass of red wine to calm her raw nerves. She logs onto her laptop and types out an email. It's easier for her to pour her feelings onto the screen, to watch the letters string together to form some sort of coherent explanation for all of her hurt and confusion.

She stares at the lines of her thoughts, and then she hits send. She lets out a little sigh as she stares out at the starry night sky, but a tiny smile of relief traces across her lips.

Lucas receives her email immediately. He's been sitting in front of a blank screen in the room they once shared. He should be writing up training schedules for his basketball team but all his thoughts were preoccupied with missing his girl.

His heart leaps as he realises the message is from her. He reads her words about the tour, about how she is starting therapy and that she misses him.

He stares at their wedding photo long after his read over her message over and over. His eyes are locked upon the happy girl and boy who were meant to be together forever.

His fingers trace over his wife's face, he misses that beaming smile. He misses that secret little grin that was meant only for him and he misses the sound of her laugh.

He replies to her after drafting and redrafting the message with Haley and fighting the urge to just beg her and tell her to come home.

He clicks on the send option and just hopes that they stay in contact, even if it's in the form of email. It's more than he's had for weeks and it makes him feel lighter. He supposes it easier for her to pour her thoughts down on to paper as she's still in the depths of the deep hurt that he couldn't protect her from.

When he closes his eyes that night, all he can see is his beautiful, happy girl and he prays he'll get her back.

Her emails do keep coming and he finds himself looking forward to reading them. They come usually after one of her counselling sessions and he's home early from coaching the team once a week and waiting for them.

They trade details of the day-to-day lives mostly; what both of them are doing, and about their family and friends. It's small but he'd rather have that than nothing at all.

He can tell she is doing better. She talks more and more each week as he learns that she has Mia recording a new album, and that she is renting a small apartment next to the ocean. She tells him that she is now taking daily runs along the beach as she tries to change her daily routines, as her therapist believes that will help her.

Then slowly she begins to write more about her sessions. He learns that she doesn't always want to hear what Dr Kennedy says but that she respects her and likes her. Lucas smiles, because that is his wife. She's stubborn and headstrong yet humble enough to admit when she is wrong.

What she writes to him one night almost kills him. She's facing her demons and finally admitting the truth, but when she expresses her need for forgiveness, his blood runs cold. What happened to her, to them, was cruel and tragic and he doesn't understand why she thinks she needs to be forgiven.

He realises she blames herself for their baby's death it almost breaks him. He's never blamed her. He's been angry with the doctors. He's blamed himself. He's felt so many times that he should have done more to protect her. But he's never blamed her for wanting to keep their baby. Not once.

She cries long after he's replied to her. She stands outside on her balcony listening to the roar of the dark ocean as she hugs herself for comfort. She's always been so scared that deep down below the depths he blames her too. He had been the one to tell her not to go ahead with the pregnancy and she'd thought she'd messed everything up. She's been carrying an overwhelming sense of guilt that has never even entered into his mind.

She doesn't sleep at all that night. She lies staring up at the ceiling but for once her head isn't filled with dark and impenetrable thoughts. Her mind is full of thoughts of Lucas.

When she closes her eyes, she sees his face. He's smiling and he's laughing as she remembers so many happier times.

She slowly stirs from the deep in her pillow and she guesses she must have finally given into a much needed rest. She shifts from beneath the cream comforter and stares out at the beginning of the new day.

She pulls on her sweats and a tank top and pulls her long dishevelled curls into a ponytail. She's never been an exercise fanatic, a year ago she would have never imagined that she actually looked forward to her morning run. But she did. The morning sun, the quiet and the ocean always made her feel so calm.

She runs for over an hour alongside the waters edge. She runs usually until she gets tired or she sees the tourists begin to show up to bake their bodies on the Californian sands.

She stops by the wharf and her hand travels down to her side where she has the beginnings of a stitch. She inhales a deep breath and inhales the saltiness of the crashing waves.

She sees a little girl walking across the shores as she sobs and clutches at her teddy bear.

Peyton frowns and moves slowly towards her, crouching to the child's height. The little girl, _Bethany_, is lost and Peyton takes hold of her hand as they go to find her mother.

It doesn't take long, as they reach the pier its as though Peyton's senses immediately scout out the frantic mother and the overprotective father from in between the rest of the crowds. Bethany breaks from her hand and runs towards the woman who catches her up off the ground.

Peyton notes the same freckled noses that both mother and daughter have. She sees Bethany's thick brown hair mirrored in her father.

She remembers how she and Lucas would talk excitedly, late into the night about their child and all its possible, future traits. Lucas had wanted messy blonde locks and skinny, 'chicken-y' legs and she'd always fall asleep to the thought of their baby's furrowed brow and love of old books and basketball.

She watches the happy little family walk away along the harbour after thanking her. She sees how Bethany rides on her father's broad shoulders and all Peyton wants to do is run home to him. To her Lucas.

She closes her eyes and she draws in a gulp of air. The tears flow freely down her cheeks but they aren't a result of desperation and loss. For the first time he is the only thing to occupy her mind.

She leaves the beach, quickly. She wants to go home.

_Forgive Me_

He didn't expect to see her from behind his door. He smiles slowly, he's a little cautious. He wants to know that her visit to means that she's back for good. That she wants to give their marriage another try.

Peyton looks different. Her hair is a shade darker. She's recently had it cut and styled in those long, silky curls that he's loved since the moment he laid his eyes on her years ago. Her dress is pretty and simple but she wears Ellie's leather jacket around her shoulders. It's as though some of her fire and lust for life has returned. And he's happy to see it.

He doesn't speak, his only thought is to pull her into his arms and never let her go again.

"I want to come home Luke."

Her words are soft and pleading. The stray tears she's been holding back for so long spill down her cheeks.

She looks up at him almost hesitantly. Almost as though she thinks he might need a moment to consider having her back.

Lucas doesn't.

He really doesn't need to think about it for a moment. He stretches out his arms to capture his Peyton; his beautiful, precious girl. He kisses her softly at first before sadness and relief both washed over him. He is tentative as it's been too many days and nights just missing her and he needs a minute for the gentle embrace to make him believe this is real.

His kiss soon becomes deeper; she's come back to him and he can't let her go again.

She responses, with equal passion, her hands reach up to cup his new buzz cut hair. She brings her body as close to his as she possibly can. She needs to feel the sweet rhythm of his heart as it beats against her own. She feels the hardness of his chest as he holds her. She needs to relish the softness of his lips when he kisses her.

She buries her face against the crook of his neck, smelling her "Lucas" scent. The smell of old pages, his spicy cologne and the hint of endless summer nights.

She whispers that she's so sorry, as though she's begging for his forgiveness, but he knows he'll forgive her anything. As long as she's his to forgive.

He guides her back into the quiet house. As she glances around she sees that nothing has really changed. It looks exactly how she left it. The world has spiralled on at such a pace but he's kept their world safe and preserved as he waited for her return.

He sits them down on the couch; her in his lap because he needs to be close to her and he needs to believe this is real. He slides the gold band and the diamond ring back onto their rightful place on her finger.

She smiles down at the promise of forever before she kisses away his stray tear of relief. She cups his face into her hands. Their story might not always be a fairy tale, it might not always be easy and clear cut, but she knows she wouldn't be complete without him.

"I missed you so much," he whispers into her curls. He's been so afraid that she would never come back to him. "I love you."

She settles in closer to him and she murmurs her reply, she loves him too and it feels good to be home again.


End file.
